


A Mighty Ocean or a Gentle Kiss

by Ellienerd14



Series: Norkus Challenges [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Norkus November, references to the Eden Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellienerd14/pseuds/Ellienerd14
Summary: North and Markus.Markus and North.Two strong leaders, passionate and connected in every life and meeting.It's okay if you can't find the wordsLet me take your coat and this weight off of your shouldersA collection of North/Markus fics for Norkus November. Both AUs and canon compliment one shots.





	1. SNOW

**Author's Note:**

> Title lyrics from ['Two'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrDzd4ufypE)by Sleeping At Last because it’s my Norkus anthem. Like listen to the lyrics and then tell me it isn’t the best song for them :)
> 
> Full list of Norkus November prompts are [here](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/markusandnorth/179466186987), all credit goes to @markusandnorth on tumblr. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon compliment.

Day 2: Fire or **Snow**

* * *

 North is, by design, incredibly beautiful. It’s a fact she resents. She knows why she was designed to be so desirable and why, even as they campaign to be seen as more than glorified objects, the politicians eyes land on her for too long.

Part of her envies Markus for being an unique design. All the RK series had the luck of being distinguishable from the rest of their kind. 

Humans, amongst their collection of strange expressions and idioms, have one that goes: _every snowflake is unique, no matter how similar they first seem._

North first hears it from Kara, as she packs up toys from her old house in Detroit. (It’s a job she’s technically overqualified for but it beats peace talks with Senator Greyson, who seems too appreciative of Cyberlife’s pervy design team.) 

Kara unrolls a string of paper cut into little snowflakes, school project of the past perhaps, and reads what’s written on the back, in shaky childish handwriting, out loud.

“Every snowflake is unique,” North repeats back, mockingly, “humans will personify anything.”

Kara smiles and adds it to her box of Alice’s drawings. “It’s harmless.”

North kicks her boot against the wall. After a long week of unsuccessful negotiations and being ogled at, she isn’t sure that humans were capable of being ‘harmless’. Not even the younger one. 

“What’s the big deal with being unique anyway?" It's bitter and not the place, but she finds herself spitting it out anyway. "If they care so much, what’s with the lazy design work?”

Kara touches her shoulder gently. “This isn’t about children’s rhymes is it?”  

North is usually guarded but there’s something kind about Kara that she respects. North sinks to the floor. “There were 7,500 WR400s in my batch of production. Hundreds in the Eden club. There’s a few variants but even then, we share a basic facial structure.”

“But, there’s only one of you.”

North snorts (it's unladylike, she's been told, _good)._ “It doesn’t matter to them. There’s a reason Connor and Markus are natural leaders.”

Kara puts down the box and sits across from her. She has the same look that is usually reserved for Alice. It only annoys North further; she is not a child. Not naive and certainly not delicate. 

“You are a good leader. You’re helping me now, even if Todd’s house is disgusting.”

North shakes her head. “I am a good leader. But, Markus is the brilliant one. He’s smart and calm and careful with his words. He’s so beautifully subtle with his speeches. Even the most repulsive humans hang onto his every word.”

It feels wrong to voice such thoughts when she’s kept them in for so long. Not even Markus knows. North is a little embarrassed to even admit it to Kara, even if she completely trusts the other woman. She admires her lover more than anyone else, but she wishes to rA9 that she could be more like him.  

“Markus is so diplomatic. All I know how to do is scream.”

“North,” Kara says, “I could help you.”

She scoffs, “if you can make a group of humans respect us, maybe you should be helping Markus with negotiations in DC.”

“Not with that,” Kara says, “but with feeling a little more like yourself.”

Kara offers her a hand, now stripped back and stark white. North is a little hesitant but allows them to connect anyway, curiosity getting the best of her.  

Being in Kara’s head leaves North feeling a little disoriented. It’s hard to navigate, unlike with Markus, she’s given restricted access.

Kara plays a flash of memory to her, of standing in a motel bathroom with scissors, cutting her hair, pulling out the LED that may give them away. It falls in the sink, LED fading from yellow as the light fades. North sees Kara through her own eyes, in the reflection on the wall, as she changes her hair colour.

Blonde. Black. Brown. White.

Kara chooses black and then turns away, calling Alice in for a bath.

The memory ends with the little girl calling her pretty and North is pulled back from the motel room and into the bedroom, surrounded by cardboard boxes.

A pop up in her vision informs North of new software update, allowing aesthetic changes.

Kara touches her own short hair and smiles. “If you ever want to look different.”

North isn’t sure how to thank her, so just reaches for an empty box and helps her pack instead. 

But she smiles at Kara, for a moment, and hopes that she understands. 

 

* * *

 

North’s experience with her hair are limited to trying out different hairstyles. Even before she had taken the last step and broken through the barrier - **LET THE CUSTOMER DO WHAT THEY WANT TO YOU** \- the software instabilities messages were growing more and more frequent. She want the only one. There were a few other Tracis- no, not Tracis, WR400s- that were the same. They would leave a little braid in their hair as a signal to the others they were slowly becoming free, alive, deviant. (She wishes she went back to help them.) 

North has her hair in a much longer braid now but it’s still her original colour of light orange. It’s pretty - by design, she thinks, bitterly - but the idea of changing it is still exciting.

There are few mirrors in New, New Jericho (the first warehouse they moved to was too small after all the androids were free from camps, so they moved again) so she waited and tested the new feature in Carl’s bathroom. 

She can hear the faint talking as Markus plays chess with his human father. (He lets Carl win sometimes. It’s a nice gesture.)

North looks at her reflection, scowling, to try and ruin the beauty of her perfectly crafted face. She pulls her hair free of the braid and shakes it loose. Then, she accesses the new aesthetics software. There are the four options Kara had and a few brighter choices, downloaded from a patch online. She tries a bright shade first and laughs, delighted as her hair fades to neon pink. That was certainly unique.

North tries black next which matches Kara. No, too common, she decides.

The next shade is blonde, which is her favourite so far. Like the original Chloe models. The start of androids.

Next, she selects white and gasps at her reflection. It was exactly as bright and unique as she wanted. Noticeable but not too neon. She runs her fingers through it and brushes it back out her face. She’s smiling again but it looks better now it’s framed with hair the colour of-

_Snow._

That, North has to laugh at.

She steps out the bathroom, leaving her hair loose. She wants to see Markus’ reaction.

He’s moved now, to play the piano instead. North leans against the door frame and watches as he plays out a soft melody. A man of many talents. All which made him seem radiant.

When he finishes the piece, she claps along with Carl.

Markus looks up and pulls a little amused grin at her hair.

North sits on the bench next to him.

“Like it?”

“Of course,” Markus answers. He touches a strand and pushes it behind her ear. A smooth move. Typical.

“Different.”

“Very different,” he agrees. “Still pretty.” (His version of pretty is different to the humans. His version of pretty is why she lets him see her soul.)

Carl mutters something about ‘kids these days’ and wheels off into his studio. He means it fondly, she’s sure, Carl likes her.

“I wanted to be recognisable,” North admits, “more than just another WR400.”

“I would recognise you in the dark. I would recognise you in a room of a hundred androids. I would recognise you if my optical units were broken.”

Androids can’t blush but North is sure she spots a hint of blue on his cheeks.

“Yeah, right.” She looks down at the porcelain keys.

“You don’t believe me?”

Markus offers a hand stripped back and she takes it. He floods her mind with scenes _of her smile and throwing a brick through a bus shelter and climbing up a crate in their first mission._

North shows him snippets _of peace talks and ugly looks. She shows him Kara’s help. She shows him her with pink hair. Then with her hair pulled on by greedy humans. Then her new white hair. Snowy._

She pulls away and closes her palm into a fist.

“You are beautiful,” Markus tells her, “you’re like snow.”

She scoffs. “Complete with an icy heart?”

“No. You’re a little cold at first but also soft and when I see you, I know my day will be a little better.”

Markus runs his hand through her hair again and then kisses her gently.

“Let me show you,” he says. He guides her by the hand, taking her outside to the studio.

Carl raises his hand in a wave as they pass. Markus takes her to the corner and shows her a painting of-

 _Of North_.

She’s the centre of the picture, eyes closed, a golden glow around her. There’s the late November snow in the background, caught on her jacket and in her (then ginger) hair.

She feels a tear fall down her cheek.

“Thank you.”

Markus kisses the back of her head.

“My beautiful, snowy love.”

 

* * *

 

_(North keeps the white hair and stands taller in meetings. When they gaze at her with longing, she stares back, LED red. She always wins._

_She sends Kara a picture of her new hair. She says it’s a good change. Alice says it makes her look like the Ice Queen._

_Markus starts calling her a snowflake. It’s equal parts cheesy and heartwarming.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love Kara? She’s my fav character and I can see her and North getting on very well. 
> 
> I ended up chosing ‘snow’ because it reminded me of Kara’s white hair. And of course Elsa, which is what Alice references at the end. 
> 
> See you on day 4! (If you have any prompts or suggestions for any days let me know and I’ll try to include them!)


	2. KISS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Childhood friends au 
> 
> 4 times they could have kissed and 1 they did

Day 4: Touch or **Kiss**

* * *

**North (Aged 11)**

Leo gives North’s ratty clothes a long look before he lets her in the house. It’s a big house, too big for only three people, and a stark difference to the foster home on the other side of town where she lives. Still, it's like a second home by now and she knows that if Markus or Carl had answered the door, she would be allowed in, dirt included. 

“Take off your shoes,” he tells her, “and don’t sit on anything white.”

She kicks off her boots and scowls at him. “Can I see Markus yet?”

“He’s outside,” Leo answers. He looks especially grumpy today but North doesn’t actually care why. He isn’t the Manfred brother she came for.

Markus is outside, with his school books spread around him. 

She sneaks closer and closer and tackles him from behind. Even if she had taken him by surprise initially, Markus was quick to respond and they rolled around in the neat grass until she was sat on top of him.

“You cheated.”

“Really?” she teases, “tough.”

North slides off him and watches as Markus shuffles into a more comfortable position.

“You didn’t tell me that you were coming.”

She picks blades of grass and rubs it between her fingers. “I left my phone at home.”

“Did Leo answer the door?”

“Yep.”

“Was his nice?”

“Never.” North picks at the lawn some more.

“Want to go play in the treehouse?” Markus asks, “we could paint a flag for Jericho.”

“Maybe we could just talk there.”

He frowns but stays quiet. Usually it was North who suggested they played Jericho - a game involving pirates, ships and sword fights - the unladylike things she enjoyed.

The treehouse had stood there since before Markus was born, it was Leo’s originally, but at fifteen, he decided he was too old for such childhood games and left it to his half-brother.

They sit on an old sofa - old by the Manfred’s standards that is, meaning nice and squishy. Still, North fidgets uncomfortably.

“Something’s wrong.”

“We’re getting moved again,” North tells him, “Kara’s starting high school now and we need to be close. I can’t be separated from her. My sister is all I have.”

“Where to?”

“Somewhere far away. We- we won’t go to the same school anymore.” North’s grits her teeth together. “I guess you’ll find a new friend. Whatever.”

Markus shakes his head. “I won’t just replace you like that. You know that, North.”

“Everyone moves on,” she replies bitterly, “even you.”

“Look at me,” he says, “I won’t forget you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re unforgettable. Besides, there’s not many people called ‘North’. There’s not many people like you at all.”

“Dork.” She pulls her friend into a hug. North pulls out of his arms but Markus hangs onto her a moment longer. Then, so quick she almost misses it, he presses a kiss to her palm.

He’s darting away, before she can catch the blush on his tan cheeks, back out to the lawn.

North closes her hand around the invisible gift in her hand and smiles.

She follow, shouting along with him.

 

* * *

 

**North (aged 13)**

North’s always been the fastest one, ever since they first met, but now Markus has had a growth spurt, he seems to finally have the advantage. Her hand’s numb from the snowball, her gloves and beanie abandoned in the masses of white in the yard. He darts away as she flings it at his head. 

“I’m going to get you, Manfred!” she yells.

He ducks as the next snowball hits the tree and narrowly misses his head.

“Nice try but-“ a different snowball hits his ear from above, “Hey, Kara!”

The older Archer sister laughs. “I’ve always been the best at throwing.”

“That’s cheating-“ Markus protests, as the two sisters surround him, “truce?”

“No way!” North smears snow on his head and laughs, “not so fast now, are you Markus?”

He hums and then picks her up, chucking North over his shoulder and running round the garden.

Kara leans against the tree, smirking at their antics. Carl wheels out to join her a few minutes later, watching as his son had snow stuffed down the back of his shirt.

“When will they realise?”

“One day,” he answers, chuckling.

 

* * *

 

By the time they’re finished in the snow, both Markus and North were shivering with wet clothes. Kara’s impressive smothering meant they both had dry clothes in their arms before they had time to take off their soaked coats or kick off their icy shoes. 

“If you get a cold, Rose will never let you out until summer.”

“These aren’t my clothes.”

“Go get changed,” Kara says, ushering her upstairs, “go, go!”

The clothes belonged to Markus, pre-growth spurt, and she felt oddly vulnerable in the baggy shirt. It was nicer than what she was used to.

It smells a little bit like Markus, like the expensive scented washing powder, like his hugs.

North brings the soft material to her face and buried her face in it. She rubs the soft material over her lips.

“What are you doing?” Kara asks.

“Nothing, getting changed, nothing.” North crosses her arms.

“Okay,” Kara giggles, “Markus offered to make you some hot chocolate. But if you’re busy-“

North blushes and pushes past her older sister. “I’m not busy. Just cold.”

“Don’t worry I won’t tell him.”

She freezes: “tell him what?”

Kara smiles, the picture of innocence. “Nothing.”

 

* * *

 

**North (aged 15)**

Their spot is empty, because the buses don’t run this late, and it’s raining. North’s shivering in the cold when Markus catches up on her.

He’s holding an umbrella and wearing a heavy coat and scarf. Markus takes in her ragged appearance and red eyes, that the darkness didn’t quite hide.

He says nothing about that. Instead:

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah,” she accepts.

Markus pulls himself up onto the bus shelter with impressive strength and then offers her a hand.

When they’re both sat on the top, he pulls off the scarf and drapes it around her neck. He shuffled closer so the umbrella protects her too.

“You should have brought a coat.”

North wraps her arms around herself. “Wasn’t raining when I left Rose’s.”

Markus shuffles closer and North suspects he’s trying to radiant heat between them. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“Tell me.”

“Kara’s going to college in Indiana.” North stares off into the heavy rain. “To be a teacher.”

Markus bites his lip. “You knew that’s what she wanted.”

“I can’t get moved to a home there,” North snaps, “I can’t get moved at all. Foster home shortages. I’ll be all alone without her.”

“You’ve got me.”

North laughs, a little too harshly, “Yeah. Right. If my own sister is willing to leave me-“

“North-“ Markus protests, “Kara will come back.”

“You’re smart Markus, you’ll go on to do great things. You’ll leave me behind.”

“There’s no where I could go without you,” he promises.

“Don’t let me slow you down.”

“North, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” she snaps back, looking vicious.

“Shut down. We’re friends. You’ll have to trust me. I’m your-“ He hesitates, “your best friend. So, when I say I won’t leave you, I mean it.”

He always had such a way with words. North kicked the top of the bus shelter with the chunky heel of her boot.

“Kara is still leaving,” she mutters, not quite calm yet.

“It’s probably as hard for her as you,” Markus reminds her gently, “she’s acted like a mother to you.”

“Everyone leaves.”

“Not me,” Markus repeats, “Not to you, not ever.”

(If it’s a big promise for a best friend they don’t mention it. They’re fifteen. Everything feels so permanent for them.)

North unfolds her arms.

“Pinky promise?”

She smirks. “Is that they teach you in private school now?”

He holds out his hand. “North.”

She sighs and interlocks their fingers and repeats, slightly bitterly: “pinky promise.”

“Want to go and play some video games at my house?”

“Violent ones?” North asks, slightly more perked up at the prospect of blowing up some zombies.

“If you call Kara and tell her your safe.”

“Boring.” She catches sight of his serious expression and sighs. “Yes. Fine.”

“North, I-“ he stops, “let’s go.”

“Okay?”

They hop off the top of the shelter and walk home, shoulders pressed together as they shared the umbrella.

(It had stopped raining.)

 

* * *

 

**North (aged 17)**

“This is stuffy,” North complains, pulling on itchy lace sleeves.

Art gallery openings sounded fun but now she was starting to get why Carl usually didn’t go. It was boring. And the long black dress Markus insisted on buying her was stunning but getting a little unwanted attention.

“Once the speech is over we get food.”

“How long is the speech?”

“Too long,” Carl answers from in front of them. “Least they’re not making me do one.”

“There’s a reason you’re not allowed to do speeches Dad.”

Carl winks at her. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Hey,” Markus whispers, “want to sneak off? I’ll show you Dad’s painting.”

“I’m way ahead of you.” She holds up the dress to show her beaten up boots underneath.

“This is why you’re my favourite person.”

 _Favourite person._ She likes the sound of that.

They weave through the crowd and slip out a back door. It feels childish, with all the laughing and shoving each other. But moments like this are rare, with the fancy art school Markus attends become so far away.

They chase each other up the stairs and into the gallery itself. It’s beautiful, with more space than all of the bedrooms at Rose’s put together. It’s painted gold and dark blue, like a palace, with big glass windows.

North stands at it and looks out at the view of Detroit. It’s so much prettier away from the grim details or grey streets.

“Impressed?”

“Yeah.”

It’s another reminder that they’re from different worlds. Markus from one full of beauty and gold. North from the rougher part of town.

“Come on,” he pulls on her arm, “you’ll want to see Dad’s. It’s really good.”

Carl’s artwork is in the centre of the room, taking up half a wall by itself. It’s painted a hundred shades of blue and shows a face, eyes half closed, that’s twisted into a smile.

“It’s great.”

“I know,” Markus says. His hand is still on her wrist and he lets it drop into hers. “See the right eye? I painted it.”

She pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to see better.

“Look at you,” she teases, “already in the gallery.”

He smiles sheepishly. “It’s why I wanted you to come.”

“I’m glad I did.”

Markus swallows nervously. “Whilst we’re alone, there’s something I wanted to ask.”

“So-“

He looks at their hands, still pressing together. “North I-“ he stops again, “it’s hard to say.”

“Says the captain of the debate team.”

Markus doesn’t smile like she expects. He looks uncomfortable, almost like the painting behind them.

“I think that-“

“You can’t be in here!” A woman calls, stepping into the gallery. She sighs. “Markus? Again?”

He drops her hand and turns his attention to the blond woman. “Sorry Chloe. I was just showing North Dad’s painting.”

She smiles pleasantly. It’s kind of creepy, almost robotic. “You should head back out. The speeches are about to finish.”

Meaning: _people are coming._

“Thanks for the warning.”

Chloe laughs. “The amount of warnings I’ve given you over the years is impressive.”

North follows her out, so busy trying to place her face (Chloe Kamski, she realises later, gallery curator and Markus’ Godmother), that she misses the longing look on her friends face as she walks away.

 

* * *

 

**&  Markus (aged 19)**

They’re getting a bit too big to fit in the treehouse, but if they sit with their legs overlapping they can fit. Markus is squished next to her, but he doesn’t mind.

For North, he never minds much. In fact, he likes how they’re so close.

He will tell today, he promises himself. Still, Markus is feeling a little shaken up already.

“Feels weird being back,” she says, “and I mean that literally because I think there’s a splinter in my leg.”

“I’m going to miss home.”

North leans against his shoulder. “I’ll come drag you back from DC soon enough.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Markus adds, although more quietly.

She hears it. (For once. How many hushed confessions had she missed?) “We’re already getting sappy over it?”

“Am I not allowed to miss you?”

“You are,” she replies, “but shouldn’t it be the other way round? I should be missing you whilst you do irresponsible things and forgetting your little hometown friends.”

He’s about to protest about how he couldn’t forget her, but then Markus catches the smirk on North’s face.

“Maybe I’ll even break a few laws whilst I’m there. Go really wild.”

“Hell yeah,” North agrees, “I’ve been carrying the wild side of our friendship for the last ten years.”

_Friendship._

“Teach me your wicked ways.”

“If you haven’t worked them out yet, you’re a slow learner.”

Markus tickles her and she laughs, trying to edge away.

“Hey, I take it back. That was a dirty move.”

“Thanks.”

North chuckles. “Listen, if you don’t call me when you land, there will be trouble.”

“I won’t forget.” Markus holds up a hand, “can you just listen for a moment. I’m about to fly four hundred miles away tomorrow. But first- I need to tell you something.”

“Markus, you’re doing the dramatic speech thing again.”

“I love you.” He closes his eyes. “I look at you and I know you’re the one. It’s not fair for me to go to DC without telling you first. So, there. I love you.”

“Markus, what the fu-“ North pauses, “why? What? When?”

She hasn’t run off.

“You’re-“ he doesn’t want to say beautiful. She’s more than just that, “you’re passionate about everything. You’re kind and bold and brave. I trust you and admire you. And one day I’m looking at you sitting on the top of the bus shelter and I think: oh, it’s you.”

“You didn’t call me pretty.”

“It’s not the most important thing.”

She moves and Markus thinks he’s lost his chance.

Better to know…

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Markus,” she warns, putting her hand on his face and blocking his vision.

“Why are you-“

North cuts him off with a soft kiss, the hand over his eyes trailing down to hold his cheek, her other hand in his.

She leaves him breathless.

“Love you too idiot.”

 

* * *

 

_(The next day she waves him off as he takes a flight to art college in DC._

_She visits a month later._

_And the month after that._

_H_ e _thinks_ _life can’t get any better._

_He thinks she’s amazing._

_North is just happy to be in his arms.)_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how in character this is but it was pretty fun and adorable to write! I'd live to write a full length childhood freinds au one day... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	3. LOSING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon compliment: where Markus is shot and his heart shuts down so North gives him hers. Assuming they win afterwards.
> 
> Angst and character death. (A LOT OF ANGST. Disclaimer: Totally listening to sad music when writing this.

Day 7: North losing Markus or **Markus losing North**

 

* * *

 

**_‘tell me, is something wrong?_ **

**_if something’s wrong_ **

**_you can count on me._**

******_you know i’ll take my heart clean apart,_**

**_if it helps yours beat’_ **

 

_There had been gunfire and panic and shut down alerts. He had been dying._

_North had been there, by his side, like she always was, pulling him somewhere safe._

_“Our hearts are compatible.” She was looking down at her torso, not at him. Pulling off the buttons. “You have to take mine.”_

_The thought had filled him with more fear than the slowly ticking countdown._

_“I can’t let you do that!”_

 

“Markus?” Josh called, darting between the rest of the androids in the makeshift hospital. “There you are. We were worried that…” his voice trailed off, spotting the young woman lying on the ground between them. “Oh. You were with her.”

“We won.” His voice was unsteady with all the feelings he was never supposed to have. Now, he was starting to wish he didn’t. “We won and she never got to see it.”

Josh stroked her hair. “We were all willing to die for our cause.”

“But why did it have to be her? Why did I have to be so selfish?”

 

_She was crying. Why was she crying? Because she knew he’d accept her final gift or because she was scared of losing him?_

_“It’s the only way.”_

 

“North loved you. She wanted you to live and see our new world.”

“I didn’t want to have to see it without her by my side.” Markus turned away, as if he couldn’t stand to see her lifeless body any more.

“We can honour her memory-“

“I’m going to check the list of the biocomponents Connor brought us.”

Josh followed him anxiously. “Is that a good idea?”

“It’s always worth a try.”

Josh sighed. “But-“

“Please,” Markus pleaded, “I have led us to freedom. Let me have one thing. _Let me have her._ ”

 

_“If you love me, take my heart.”_

_Markus knew she was right. The humans wouldn’t listen to anyone else. But at such a cost?_

_“Freedom or death,” she reminded him, “there can’t be one without another.”_

_She was still crying. He wiped her cheeks and felt a few tears of his own escape._

_“Forgive me, my love.”_

 

There was a crate full of replacement thirium pumps. But Josh still was hesitant. He had seen a lot of androids shut down at Jericho. He knew which parts were more easy to replace.

“Markus, the chances of this being a success range between fifteen and twenty-four percent.”

“At least she has a chance.”

“I just think it’ll leave you heartbroken.”

Markus paused where he was gathering supplies. “I already am.”

 

_He had taken her heart. North’s heart meant the red alerts vanished and apart from low thirium levels, he was okay. He would live._

_North wouldn’t._

_“My heart is beating inside your chest. I’ll always be with you.”_

_Markus had connected their hands a final time. North’s emotions weren’t an intense tidal wave like usual, but a stream of fear_ and _glad he was safe_ and _love._

_He leaned forward to kiss her, holding onto to the brief distraction from the fighting._

_He felt the connection break as her skin moved to cover her hand and the light dimmed._

_“I’m sorry. I love you.”_

_North’s eyes stared back, unseeing, unhearing, bright till the end._

_He closed them._

 

The thirium pump beat irregularly but it was enough to wake her up.

“Against the odds, that’s my girl.”

“Markus?” her voice was like a stiff whisper. “I- what happened?”

“It was only partially successful,” Josh warned, “she’s back online but the cold and the other wounds means she has approximately four minutes and twenty seconds.”

“And then?”

“Permanent shut down.” Josh looked down at his old friend. “North you were… so brave. We didn’t always see eye to eye. But I’m glad I met you.”

“Josh?” North’s voice was a harsh croak.

“I’ll leave you two in peace.”

She pushed herself up to a sitting position shakily. “Markus? What happened?”

“We won,” he told her proudly, “because of you.”

“You’re the great leader. All I did was-“ she gasped, remembering, clutching her chest. “But I- Markus tell me you didn’t give it back!”

“No. I found a new one.”

North closed her eyes, presumably checking her internal systems for damage and coming back with a hefty report. “Not working.”

“I’m sorry. I tried- I had to try.”

She reached out for his hand and held on. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Because I couldn’t bare to lose you.”

 

_Markus knew there was a fight waiting for him. But first, he lay North down, protected by a barrier, crossed her arms, kissed her a final time._

_“Freedom or death.”_

_He picked up his gun._

_“I’ll win this for you,” he promised._

 

“The war is not over yet. We must keep fighting. Don’t let the bastards get you down.” North leant her head on his shoulder. “Lead our people. Lead them-“

“I will. I will fight for our kind.”

She clutched her chest, expression pained. “Keep fighting for me.”

“I love you,” he told her.

“I know. I love-“ North winced, “I know. I love- I know. I love-“

“North?”

She kept repeating the phrase, her voice becoming more and more metallic. Hand still sprayed over her chest.

It was hurting her. The heart he’d tried to replace was hurting her.

“I know. I love- I know. I lo-“ her voice cut out completely as Markus pulled the faulty thirium pump from her chest.

North’s body fell backwards, eyes closing.

She looked peaceful.

“I love you too,” he finished what she couldn’t say back to him.  

He kissed her forward and stepped away.

“Markus? You should still have thirty sec-“ Josh stopped, seeing his expression.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m going to the roof. But when I’m back, I’ll know what to do next.”

Markus spared a final glance to his fallen lover.

“The fight goes on.”

 

* * *

 

**_‘i just want to build you up,_ **

**_build you up_ **

**_’til you’re good as new_ **

******_and maybe one day i will get around to fixing myself too’_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who am I to ignore such delicious angst? 
> 
> The song lyrics are from 'Two' by Sleeping At Last which is linked in the first chapter and will definitely come up again. (seriously, LISTEN TO IT and then yell at me in the comments about being heartbroken.) (Fun fact: they have 4:21 together, the same length as the song.) 
> 
> (Bonus points if you can find the lit and Dr who reference in this!) 
> 
> I decided to end it with him honouring her brave spirit and passion to the cause. But, ultimately he doesn’t get her back. Leave your broken heart by comment section and call me evil on tumblr. Hehe. 
> 
> Something more sweet next time? Hmm... I'll think about it.


	4. HOPE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon compliment

Day 14: Hope 

 

* * *

 

 

The fire in her was dying. North had watched her fellow androids shut down and found herself questioning if it was really was because of broken biocomponents and thirium loss or if they had just given up. It was easy to see why they’d give up when she saw the shadows they slept in. 

What North wants, more than anything, to be fighting still. The memory of the club, of dirty humans and of the smell of burnt elastic as she set the skimpy uniform on fire in the garden of the last human to touch her still lingers. It’s unpleasant but it’s something to keep her fighting. 

They are safer hiding in the shadows, or at least Simon insists they are, but North wants to take the fight away from the ship, to the streets, to the humans. 

North keeps fighting in her own way. 

She steals from thrift stores. Mostly clothes. Sometimes metal for Lucy. Josh disapproves until she brings back an old textbook. (He liked teaching. Josh still does run classes for the child deviants. They don’t listen but it’s something to do.)

She reads articles on the Eden Club. It’s still running. There’s nothing she’d like more than to take a bat and smash every glass case. 

Instead she throws her ball against the wall over and over and imagines the sound of shattered glass. 

She dreams of burning Detroit to the ground. She dreams of broken glass and smoke in an android sex club. She dreams of revolution. 

It was just a dream then, before he came, before he changed  _ everything.  _

 

* * *

North’s the first to see Markus. She’s always the first to meet the new ones, given how she kept guard of the ships hull. He’s in bad shape, torn shirt, barefoot, recent repairs. But he has on a long jacket and he looks gritty and determined. 

He asks a lot of questions. North likes that about him. If Markus is curious about how so called ‘liberated’ androids live, she won’t lie to him. 

North watches carefully but hidden as he talks to Lucy. She patches up an injury on his hip, talks in her calming voice, advises him. 

North slips away before Markus can see her. She spots Simon watching her, amused. 

_ Shut up, _ she tells him via their connection. 

_ He’s interesting?  _

North glares.  _ Yes. I’ve never seen a model like his.  _

_ You seem to appreciate his model a lot.  _

North flips him off and goes to find her stress ball. Humans squeeze it to relieve the stresses of their so-difficult lives but North throws it against the wall and pretends it’s a brick. 

The things she’d do if they ever left the shadows… 

 

* * *

Markus asks Simon first. He has a plan, about spare parts, a lot helping them. She listens, from her spot, throwing her stress ball rhythmically. 

“The CyberLife warehouse in Detroit harbour. They have everything we need.” 

Simon has his famous fun killing smile on. North scowls as he answers, in the gentle, this is for your own good tons. “The docks are guarded and we can’t just walk in there and take what we want. The humans will never let us.”

Markus is insistent. He keeps arguing, starting to gain attention from the others. Josh steps up. North puts down her ball. 

“Which is why we won’t ask for permission.” 

She smiles, briefly, at the fierceness in his voice. 

Josh joins in the fun killing. “We don’t have any weapons and, even if we did, none of us know how to fight.” 

“Speak for yourself,” North mutters, still captivated by their argument. She knows her side already. Risks and all. 

“We can steal what we need without fighting.” 

They’re not convinced yet but it’s closer than North has ever gotten. He has a way with words, a calmness, a certainty that she envies. 

She thinks he could change things, if he uses those skills right. 

She knows that Josh and Simon will never let them. 

“We’ll just get ourselves killed.” 

North stands up, steps towards them, eager. 

“Maybe,” she waits, waits, waits, hoping it’s not the end, “but it’s better than waiting here to be shut down.” 

North meets his eyes. For the first time, she notices that his eyes are mismatched. “I’m with you.” 

For a moment, it’s just them in the room, a flicker of something in her chest, two rebellious souls willing to risk it all. It’s intense. 

Then Simon agrees and Markus turns to him. 

North stays put, feeling metaphorically breathless, eager. 

They were going to leave the safety of the shadows. 

They were going to bring the fight to the humans. 

It’s all she’s ever wanted and she has Markus to thank for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm a day early but since it's my birthday tomorrow I'm posting now. 
> 
> With the prompt being hope, I went with the idea of Markus being the inspiration for a very hopeless North. It clear she admires him (its mutual!) which I hope came across.


	5. AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heist AU, in which Markus reunites with his lost love turned art thief to recover paintings his brother stole.

Day 19: **AU** or crossover

 

* * *

 

 

There was soft jazz being played through the bar. Markus kept his head down, collar pulled up, trying not to look at any of the girls for too long. He was out of his element here and the gun that Connor had lent him for protection suddenly seemed too bulky, too noticeable.

He sat at the bar, careful to avoid the sticky surface.

The bartender, a young woman with the signature blue hair he had been seeking, smiled at him. “Can I get you a drink?”

Markus looked up to meet her eyes. She seemed cautious but attentive.

“Compass gin,” he requested, “I know it’s your speciality.”

“It’s a pretty strong drink, you think you can handle it?”

Markus kept his face passive, even if his heart was racing and the smell of cheap beers and sweat was choking him. “I can handle some fire.”

The woman - he knew her only as ‘A’ - nodded. She disappeared into the back room and pushed a small flask and a dirty glass towards him. He slipped the flask into his pocket and left some money on the counter.

Out of sight, he slipped open the flask, finding a damp curl of paper with a phone number on it.

Underneath was a name.

_North._

 

* * *

The address that was sent by the number was an old house, boarded up. There was a ladder in the garden, leading to the roof. Markus climbed it, wishing again he wasn’t alone.

“Leo, really?”

The woman who stepped out the shadows crossed her arms over her chest. But Markus knew her well enough to recognise the intrigue on her face.

“Its my painting.”

North stepped towards him. “So I’ve heard. Big bro stole it and you’ve gone rogue to get it back.”

Markus couldn’t help but snort. “How long is this icy act going to last?”

“What act?” North dropped her arms. “I heard about your Dad. That… it isn’t fair.”

“The doctors say high stress isn’t helping his condition. The high stress of having your son rob you for example.”

“I was always going to help you,” North said, “the scurrying in the shadows is just to keep me safe.”

“I’ve heard you’re internationally wanted.”

She smirked. “Twelve heists, two years, nine states. But who’s keeping track?”

Markus tried to get a better look at her now she was out of the shadows. North was still as beautiful as ever and he would recognise her anywhere. Her hair was longer than the last time he saw her and tied up in a messy braid under her signature beanie.

“I missed you.”

North bit her lip, “yeah same. I guess. I’ll help with the heist. For an old friend and because I’ve always found Leo annoying.”

Markus sighed in relief. “Thank you North. Jericho is at your disposal.”

“I never saw you as the criminal gang type.” She laughed. “We all thought that would be me, right?”

“If people need help, I’d never refuse. Including you,” he promised.

“I can handle myself.”

“I know,” he replied, “but as… old friends, if you need Jericho, then we’re here. I’m here for you.”

Markus turned to window when he felt a soft hand grip his own.

“Want to stay a little?” North offered, her voice deceivingly calm. Her hand was shaky but familiar in his own.

“I’d love that.”

North kept holding on. Markus interweaved their fingers together, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest. He was suddenly glad for the darkness, so she couldn’t see him blush or smile like an idiot school boy with a crush.

Which he had been, five years ago, when they had ditched homecoming to graffiti the staff room and then spent the next month in detention.

Good times…

“We could sit on the roof, it’s less dusty.”

“Just like old times.”

North smiled, a rare and unfairly disarming sight. Markus ducked his head and hoped she couldn’t sense his racing pulse.

“Race you!”

 

* * *

 

The gallery was in ten days, which meant that Markus’ days were suddenly full of training, planning and most importantly: North.

“The closest exits are..”

“Left corridor by the modern sculpture exhibit and the fire exit by the staircase.”

“The code word is…”

“Ship.”

“And we are…”

“Just waiters,” he finished, grinning at North, “trust me, I know this all.”

“Well, you missed out the south window exit but I’d say you’re ready.”

Markus rolled up the map on the table, just to keep his hands busy. “I guess you’ll be moving on after we get the art back.”

North ran her fingers over her own copy of the plan. “I keep moving, it’s what’s best. You’ll have the paintings and we can send it back to your Dad. I can cross Michigan off my list of states to rob.”

“And then you’ll keep running?”

“Yeah. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at.”

Markus resisted the urge to reach for her. “But-”

“But?”

“You’ll be all alone.”

North frowned, lips tight together, “I’m always alone Markus.”

“You could stay at Jericho,” he tried - she was worth trying for - “we have networks. I know a woman who could give you a room in her house.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Being around people is dangerous?” Markus fired back. “Please stop being so-”

“Crazy?”

“Stubborn!” he argued, “it’s close to me.”

North stepped forward, head tilted, eyes blazing, “you’re my friend Markus. Friendship doesn't require us to be neighbours like when we were kids. I don’t need your protection, okay?”

She moved swiftly towards the door.

“Wait, I meant, I meant-”

“Be prepared. We go tomorrow and I’d hate for you to get hurt because of a _distraction.”_

 

* * *

 

If North didn’t want to be found, then she was more than capable of disappearing into the shadows. It was something Markus had learnt the hard way when she had disappeared from his completely years ago, into the mist of criminal activity.

North had left him broken hearted with her last kiss - her only kiss - the night before.

He left her in peace. One of them deserved some.

 

* * *

 

The morning of the heist, they wore stolen maintenance uniforms and scoped the place out. North was still being quiet and even Markus’ years of experience reading her couldn’t help him.

She pushed the cart through the hallway and kept her eyes hidden beneath the blue cap.

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“I know the plan better than the back of my hand.”

She smiled, small, barely there, but a smile nonetheless.

“I knew I could rely on you.”

It was her own way of saying sorry but Markus wasn’t sure why it left him feeling worse.

Maybe it was the nerves.

Maybe he needed a drink.

Maybe…

Maybe he couldn’t forget the fact that he’d go back to missing her again.

“Markus?”

_Maybe, maybe, maybe._

“Coming.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, you scrub up nice.” North crossed her arms over her own uniform, a red shirt with a black a waistcoat, her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked all business.

“I try,” he replied, feeling all too self-conscious of his own tight fitting dress shirt.

“Ready for your first heist?”

“I was born for it.”

North led him to the kitchen with incredible confidence, as if she had been working events like this her whole life.

She pressed a heavy cheeseboard in his arms. “You trust your friend to cut the lights at the right time?” she asked, in a careful hushed tone, lingering by his side.

“Connor will do it. He’ll cut the lights and cameras.”

North glances into the gala. “Is Leo in a suit?”

Markus grimaced. “He does that sometimes. Makes him looks slimy.”

“Avoid Leo, stick to the painting, let me do my thing.” North winked at him. “Go on partner. These snotty rich people need their tiny cheeses.”

North weaved through the crowds, blending very well, apart from the heavy boots she wore and the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Markus followed suit, offering his plate, edging close to the painting, keeping his head down, eyes scanning the room. Leo was stood stiffly, his hand twitching under his old navy suit. He was distracted by his withdrawals, which worked well for Markus’ plan.

Seeing his only brother turn to addiction was hard enough but stealing from their Dad when he was in hospital was a new low.

Markus kept his face calm, played his part, waited.

The lights cut out.

 

* * *

 

Markus gasped for breath, resisting the urge to laugh, his back pressed up against the wall.

North pushed back some hair that had escaped her tight bun as the ran, half a dozen expensive masterpieces of Carl’s in her bag.

“We did it,” she said, still laughing. “You’re fast Markus.”

“I had to keep up with you.”

She smiled. “That heart pumping thrill seeking feeling in your chest, that is why I do this.”

“Isn’t it more fun doing it with someone by your side?”

“Markus and North, partners in crime, just like old times.”

“More literal this time.”

She grinned. “You were never a saint.”

“Guess that’s why we’re friends.”

North looked at the shoulder bag between them. She stopped laughing as they came to the same realization. Markus had what he had asked her help for.  

“So, this is when I disappear again.”

“Is it?”

North pulled at the grips in her bun, shaking her long hair free. “That’s my life, I keep running, cause some chaos.”

“You want to cause some chaos together?” Markus asked, reaching for her hand.

There was something hopeful in her eyes. “Together?” North echoed. “You have Jericho…”

“Jericho has Connor.”

North shook her head. “Why would you give that all up to hang out with me?”

“You know why.”

Silence.

“Right, because you think you’re in love with me,” North answered, louder. She dragged him to a more secluded part of the alleyway. “Tough. I can’t give you what you actually want, so just take Carl’s paintings and go.”

“I… I just thought… the last time we said goodbye you kissed me.”

She blushed, “I thought, if I wasn’t going to see you agains I would just… give you something to remember me by.”

“As if I could forget you.” Markus pulled a stray clip from her hair. “I set up Jericho in the hopes you would come and we could help you.”

“I can’t give you what you want, it’s easier this way.”

Markus stayed silent, his throat thick with something he couldn’t quite figure out how to say yet.

“I just want to help you.”

“Just help? For what in return? More art thefts? No. Something more.”

He realised what she meant a second before she whispered it.

“I can’t sleep with you. I just… I can’t. After everything I’ve been through, after all the bad men and the fear, I can’t. I love you, but I could never. Once you realised that you would give up on me.”

“You’re pushing me away… because you’re asexual?”

North wiped her eyes. “I know, how unfair! The beautiful North can’t even…”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” Markus grabbed her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. He hoped North would see the honesty in his own eyes reflected back. “I love you because you’re my best friend not because of what you look like. Thing doesn’t change things.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He kissed her cheek and took the bag. “Think about Jericho. I’ll give Addie an address.”  

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world.”

“Don’t be so cheesy idiot.” North slinked into the shadows. “Take care of those now, it was a lot of effort. And… and thank you.”

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t at Jericho the next week. Or the week after.

An art gallery in Wisconsin is robbed.

Another month passes.

Lucy called, to check up on him, and to tell him the good news.

“There’s a lovely young lady with a housewarming gift,” Lucy told him, “calls herself the Compass. She’s asking for you.”

Markus smiled at himself, already reaching for car keys.

“Get her a drink,” he said, “tell her I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did ace rep well! Let me know! (I've always HC North as ace personally. And I'm not saying aces cant be in good relationships, North has just been mistreated in her past and has her walls up.) 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	6. HOME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon compliment - how home changes for Markus throughout his life.

Day 29: Home 

 

* * *

 

 

**CARL’S HOUSE**

Home has always meant Carl. 

Even if it wasn’t home, it was a house, and he didn’t live there, he worked there.

Still, Markus couldn’t help but link the word to his pseudo-father figure. He visits, one last time, or what he thinks will be the last, to say goodbye to the man he cared for so long. 

“Welcome home Markus,” the security system AI greets. 

It sends a sense of nostalgia through him and pulls at his heart. 

It hasn’t changed, not really, still grand and brightly coloured. Markus wanted to explore the halls again, pretend it really was his. 

But, he is not in a slave’s uniform anymore. He is a long coat and a revolution is coming. 

His visit to Carl must be brief. He cannot linger. His people need him. 

_ (Later, Markus will read about how Leo sells the mansion, see pictures of it empty and marked  _ FOR SALE, _ and realise it was really  gone .  _

_ For now, he asks Carl for advice. For now, he pretends it is  home . Even then, the word felt wrong.) _

 

* * *

 

**JERICHO**

Jericho is more than an old ship. It is more than the hub of a revolution. More than all of that. 

It is the first home with no humans. 

It is not perfect either. 

Jericho is old and rusted and they hide in the dark, shaken and giving up. 

Markus changes things, swaps the hiding for action. But the ship is the same, but louder, less empty. 

The ship feels like  _ home _ . Home was somewhere with people you love, with memories tying you there and Jericho has both. 

It burns. 

He burns it. 

Markus watches, from the water, as the one place he felt safe sinks slowly. 

It’s haunting. 

North takes his hand, in the cold water besides him, and holds on. They don’t need to interface to know how the other was feeling. 

The agents slink off, annoyed, into the darkness. Markus watches the place he felt happiest sink. It doesn’t seem fair, to lose another part of himself again, so soon. 

“You did the right thing,” she tells him.

“I did the hard thing.” 

“Same difference.” 

North pulls on his hand, guides him to the surface, away from the wreckage. 

A memory plays in his head,  _ of her arriving in Jericho for the first time, in a stolen jumper over skimpy clothes. Lucy holds her. Flames. Melted plastic. Fixing the ship. Peace. Then anger. Then hope.  _

Markus realises he wasn’t the only one to lose a home. 

_ (Later, Markus will paint the old ship, the glimpse of lit up in a warm tangerine glow from North’s memories, and put it in his new home.  _

_But, now, he swims away the wreckage, as it sinks slowly down, understanding why humans were so obsessed with the Titanic. Morbid curiosity, he decided, and the shock of seeing something so solid disappear out of view. History will cling to Jericho in the same way, he hopes, if they end up on the right side of it.)_

 

* * *

 

**CHURCH**

Jericho’s new base isn’t a home for him. But it’s where the final spark to history changing revolution was lit. 

It’s a refuge centre now. For those still escaping the cruel gasp of humanity. 

(But not for Markus.)

It’s where they return to, in the early hours of the morning after their victory, for the sake of going somewhere. 

North is by his side again. She’s giddy and smiles more than he’d seen her do before. Markus watches her talk to their people, shoulders proud, eyes passionate. 

North returns to his side, between conversations, and squeezes his hand. 

“Markus,” she says, grinning, “we did it.” 

“I know.” 

North twists up to her tiptoes and kisses the corner of his mouth. 

It’s enough to help him forget they’re in old church, dust heavy and dark. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“That’s why I said, ‘we’.” She’s teasing him now; Markus adores the light tone of her voice. “We have a long way to go. But when the Properties Laws are passed, we can find somewhere together.” 

Markus waits for North to tell him about how they have to fight some more for it. But, instead she wraps her arms around him and laughs into the curve of his shoulder. 

“A place of our own.” She laughs, still giddy. “A future. Thank rA9, because we didn’t have one yesterday.” 

(It’s then that Markus remembers that she didn’t have a real home before Jericho either.) 

Markus connects their hands and they share a feeling of hope, of that fantasy, of taking stupid human domestically for themselves. 

_ (It’s two years until the Android Property Act is passed and an additional six months until they find a flat right for them. But by then, Markus has already figured out his own definition of home.)  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very cheesy. No regrets.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi!  
> Tumblr: @bazwillendinflames  
> Twitter: @ellienerd14 
> 
> Let me know what you thought and leave a comment! :D


End file.
